Cry Wolf
by UpstairsMind
Summary: It was Sam's first hunt without Dean right by his side. Unfortunately for the Winchesters, that could end in disaster. Sam- 17 Dean- 21
1. Chapter 1

Sam sat in the backseat flicking idly through the playlist on his iPod. After a few moments _Animal I've Become_ by 3 Days Grace began to play. He settled back to listen. But, a just minutes later John was snapping at him.

"Turn that bull off! Werewolves have superhuman hearing, and we're entering its hunting zone!"

Sam sighed and let his iPod power down. It was no use arguing with Dad. He was… well, he was Dad.

Dean gave him a disapproving glare. Great. Now Dean was against him too? He blew out his breath, causing his long brown bangs to flutter against his forehead. Hmm… maybe he DID need a haircut. _"Son, if you don't cut your hair soon you're gonna end up with a mullet!"_

Sam chuckled softly. More pointed stares. He crossed his arms and leaned his head back against the seat. Maybe if he emptied his mind of all thoughts, he could actually be quiet enough to be invisible. _No thoughts… no thoughts…_. Did thinking about not thinking count as a thought? _Meditate… like… Confucius_. _Confucius… hehe_. _Confucius say man who stands on toilet is high on pot. _This time an actual laugh slipped past Sam's lips.

He opened his eyes. John and Dean were casting him stony looks, John from the mirror, Dean by just turning around in the passenger's seat. Sam wrinkled his nose. _You're as cold as ice._

This time the laugh was thunderous. At least, in the silent car.

"Boy, if you don't shut up I'm going to give you a good kick in the butt when we get back to the motel. You're already on the borderline of not coming."

This shut Sam up. His dad was just starting to let him play a solo role on hunts. He'd practically gone on his knees, saying that he was seventeen, begging to be trusted more.

John had told him 'Get off the floor' then had reluctantly agreed, with Dean's help. Sam shot a glare at the back of Dean's head. _Two-faced little suck up. _He sank lower in his seat, frown lines creasing on his forehead. Dean could be your best friend one day, and then he could go and shoot you in the foot the next. More often than not he shot you in the foot. Oh well. It wasn't like Sam wasn't expecting it. Dad probably scared Dean as much as he did Sam.

The car shuttered to a halt. They got out silently, the sky streaked with the pinks and reds of dusk. John popped the trunk. Dean immediately reached for his Glock and began loading it with silver bullets. John on the other hand picked up his Colt 1911. Sam hesitated, then grabbed the Taurus.

He quickly loaded in the bullets, then followed his dad and Dean as they crept, in marine formation, towards the isolated house. After a while, they reached it, and John led them inside, stepping lightly so that the old rotted floorboards didn't creak.

"Sam, first floor. Dean, upstairs. I'll check the attic."

Sam nodded and gripped the gun tighter. This was the first time John had let him and Dean split up, and for some reason he had broken out into a cold sweat now. A feeling of dread crept up his spine as he watched his brother and dad disappear upstairs. He wanted to run up after them, to have someone making sure he didn't get his butt kicked, but he set his jaw and headed for the back room. He'd start there.

He swept the room quietly and efficiently, and frowned when he didn't find anything. He ducked out of the low doorway and entered the kitchen. He began to look around.

Sam kneeled down and opened a cupboard cautiously to peer inside.

A guttural snarl made him freeze, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. He spun around, his flashlight sweeping the room, his hands shaking. He couldn't see anything.

It came again, from a different direction this time. It echoed, more thunderous than before. Sam's breathing became panicked as the growl grew to a piercing howl.

He caught a flash of yellow, and saw the shadows dance as something moved swiftly across the room.

He could hear a soft panting.

It was in the room with him.

It was hunting him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! Chapter two of Cry Wolf! ;) Thanks to lorza for encouraging me to continue! Hope you like! This is also a little shorter than the last. :/ Sorry. It'll start picking up soon, I promise.**

It slammed into him from out of nowhere. Sam fell heavily, winded and struggling for breath as it the werewolf darted back into the shadows.

"De'n," he panted, trying to call out to his brother. But he was cut off as the creature leapt on him again, burying its ragged claws into his shoulders. Sam let out a screech of pain, and in blind panic and fury threw himself into the cabinets. The beast yelped and jumped back from him, confusion flickering into its golden yellow eyes. But only for a moment.

There was a snarl of rage and it attacked once more. Sam skittered back, but it pinned him to the ground and dived for his neck. Sam kicked at it as it began to clamp its teeth onto his jugular vein.

There was an unexpected bang and the werewolf staggered, collapsing on Sam's legs. Sam scooched backwards until he was a few feet away from it. He pressed his hand tightly against his neck, relief sweeping through him as he realized that it hadn't broken the skin. He slumped a bit lower, just sitting, feeling the blood pump through his veins.

"Sammy, Sammy, did it get you?"

Dean's urgent voice snapped Sam back to reality. "What? Oh, no. Thanks." He smiled gratefully at his older brother as he helped him up.

John marched into the kitchen. "What's going on, I heard shots."

Dean glanced over at the werewolf. "Uh, nothing."

John followed Dean's gaze. "Who got it?"

"De-" Sam started to say.

"Sam. Sam did." Dean said firmly.

Sam furrowed his brow. "Bu-"

Dean interrupted him. "Got it all by himself. Came in here and it was already dead."

John walked over to it and kneeled down. "Dang near perfect shot." He looked over at his youngest. "Great job son."

Sam felt his face flush with embarrassment. It was bad enough that he had nearly gotten killed, now Dad was giving him praise for nearly screwing up the whole hunt?

John stood up. "I think this deserves some burgers."

"And pie?" Dean added hopefully.

"And pie." John grinned.

Sam let John pull ahead as they headed back to the Impala, then grabbed Dean's jacket and turned his brother around.

"What?"

"Why'd you do that?!" Sam demanded.

Dean snorted. "Because Dad would have never let you come on another hunt again if he knew what had really happened."

Sam took a step forward. He was as tall as Dean, so it was quite easy to look him in the eye. "Dean, you're my older brother, yeah. But sometimes I gotta take the heat."

Dean made a face and kept walking back the Impala, his hands in his pockets.

"Dean, I mean it!" Sam said, catching up. "I'm not going to let you go on making me the good guy when I almost messed up the whole thing."

Dean stopped and looked over at Sam. "Do you really want to have to deal with Dad and the aftermath of the truth? Cause I sure as hell don't."

Sam opened his mouth to argue.

"Enough. It doesn't matter, as long as I get my pie."

Sam watched his brother climb into the Impala and blew air out of his mouth. He glanced at the sky, noticing the stars were unusually bright tonight.

What he didn't notice was the small fang mark near the back of his neck, and the droplet of scarlet blood oozing out of it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Eeee! You guys are the best! I wasn't planning on posting a chapter tonight, but I got hit by a rabid pack of plot bunnies for the end of this chapter. Oh, I forgot this in the first two chapters. I DO NOT OWN THE WINCHESTERS. Anyhow, enjoy! I had uber fun writing this. And I apologize for making Dean the bad guy. :/ This chapter just hit me. Anyway, I hope you're happy! I couldn't eat my chicken for typing this! Jk. Have fun reading!**

At the diner, John ordered his usual, a double cheeseburger with fries. Dean ordered a cheeseburger with onion and fries, grinning cheekily at the cute waitress.

"Ooh, and pie. Love me some pie."

She giggled and turned to Sam. "What about you?"

Sam felt terribly hungry. He couldn't explain it, he just was. So he said the first thing that came to mind.

"Triple bacon burger. With fries."

"Hmm," the waitress said, jotting it down with raised eyebrows. She left to enter their order.

John and Dean stared at him with peculiar looks on their faces. Sam looked away. For some reason he couldn't bring himself to meet their eyes. It was silent until the waitress finally brought them their food. Normally, they'd be discussing their hunt, where they were going next, when. But it was utterly silent.

"Alright, the double cheeseburger, the cheeseburger with onions and a side of pie, and, the triple bacon." She set down their plates, then walked off to take another customer's order.

Sam tried to be casual about it. He really did. But he couldn't hold his hand back for more than a second. It shot out and grabbed his burger. He hungrily took a bite of it, savoring the meat on it.

"Well, that werewolf must have put up quite a fight," John said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah…" Sam said guiltily, taking another bite. John's attention turned to his food. Dean, meanwhile, gazed at Sam for another minute, his brow furrowed. As far as he was concerned, Sam shouldn't have any appetite at all, after all, he had almost been the wolf's triple bacon burger.

But Dean couldn't resist the temptation of onions and pie for too long, so the final Winchester dug into his feast, gulping down his burger in almost record timing. Almost. Sam still managed to beat him, even with the larger burger.

About halfway through the meal, Sam noticed something. He nearly choked on his burger when he did. But he managed to keep his composure. Sam strained his ears to be sure. Heartbeats. He could hear heartbeats. This freaked Sam out and he set down his burger for a moment and held his hands to his head, trying to make sure he wasn't imagining things. No. Definitely heartbeats. He put it out of his mind, knowing he couldn't say anything just now without John going psychopath on them in public.

The Winchester men finished their dinner. John paid for the check, and they walked out into the chilly night air, to the Impala.

But Sam flagged Dean down near the diner entrance, when their dad was out of earshot.

"What?"

Sam looked at Dean frantically. "Dean, I think-"

"BOYS! Get your butts over here!"

"Yes sir!" Dean responded. He clapped Sam on the shoulder then started for the Impala. "Sorry Sammy, this'll have to wait."

"Yeah sure," Sam muttered. He hoped Dean would remember it, the whole time they were driving, not wanting to have to start the conversation over again.

But he didn't. When they got back to the house they were renting, Dean went straight to his room and shut the door, and John left again.

Sam followed suit, except he took his time trudging up the stairs.

He lay in bed, listening to Dean's heart beat and blood pump in the other room. He felt he could almost smell the blood too, and the thought of that sent his stomach into almost crippling hunger pangs.

Sam buried his face in his pillow, trying to ignore the noises and blood-smell.

He dozed off, the land of the barely-conscious bringing him visions of ripping Dean apart, lapping his blood, eating his glorious flesh…

Sam jerked awake and leapt back, trying to escape the morbid dreams.

He thought about calling to Dean. But as soon as he thought of Dean, the visions returned, more gruesome and bloody than before.

In a last-ditch effort, Sam threw himself at the door and locked it.

He slumped in a corner by the window, light from the moon flooding over him.

His heartbeat quickened and he began to shake violently. A whining growl rose in his throat, transforming into an unearthly howl.

The howl of a wolf when it hunts.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hah, I'm naughty, updating during school. But I got bored, and had my USB so... meh. I apoligize, I have three other stories going on, one a major project. This chapter's short, but I wanted to post. :/ I'll work faster from now on!**

**xxxxxxxxx**

Dean jolted awake, the spine-chilling wail still ringing in his ears. He was breathing heavily, and he glanced over at the clock. 3:02. He sighed, and sank back into bed, pinning the sound on a bad dream.

But, not a minute after the first, it came again, starting low and sliding up octaves. And it was close. Dean made a grab for the Smith & Wesson he kept under his pillow. But as his fingers wrapped around it, the door slid open.

Alarms went off in his mind, not only that someone or something was in the room with them, but that they usually kept the hall light on, just in case they had to ditch fast. He hadn't turned off the light.

"Sammy?" he rasped softly.

There was no response, but Dean saw the curtains flutter, near the foot of the bed. He swiveled, aiming the gun towards where it was, but upon peering closer, saw that nothing was there. He lowered it slightly, furrowing his brow.

A throaty growl came from the corner of the room, by the dresser.

"What the hell?" Dean mumbled, turning to the corner. _I thought we killed the dang thing._

A thought broke into his mind. _Where's Sam?_ Dean's eyes widened and he momentarily lowered the gun.

Suddenly golden-yellow eyes were flashing through the air and Dean felt claws dig into his shoulder as an animalistic scream ripped from the creature's throat. Dean kicked it off, unable to get a shot in with it at close range. It tumbled off the bed and Dean fired after it. There was a yelp of pain, though Dean was unable to tell how badly he'd hit it. But he pulled the trigger again.

It just clicked. The dang thing jammed! Dean cursed and threw it to one side, then snatched up the bed covers and tossed them over the creature. It distracted it long enough for Dean to make a break for the door.

Dean slammed the door in its face. The animal let out a howl of anguish as it collided with it. Dean ignored it, and jammed a chair underneath the doorknob. Right now he had to find Sammy!

He shoved open his brother's door and flipped the light switch. It didn't work. The werewolf must have somehow cut the power. The thing was friggin' smart! He scoured the room, and much to his dismay, couldn't find Sammy anywhere. At least there weren't signs of a struggle.

He rifled through Sam's bag and grabbed the Beretta. He hesitated, then grabbed the Taurus too. If he found Sammy, his little brother would need a gun. No. Not if. When.

He slipped out the door and scoped out the rest of the upstairs. He would deal with the wolf _after_ he found Sammy.

He gave a growl of frustration as he bounded down the stairs. Sam _had_ to be _somewhere_. He just had to.

At the foot of the stairs, he ran smack into something. He jumped back, gun raised, then lowered it.

"Dad!"

"Dean what the hell is going on?" John grumbled, rubbing his shoulder where Dean's gun had hit him.

But Dean couldn't answer that, for there was a sound of splintering wood and a fierce howl of rage, that told them the creature had broken from its prison.

**xxxxxxxxx**

**Oh crap. Loose Sammy.**


	5. Chapter 5

**My gosh has it really been that long? I guess it has. Hehe. Well here's Chapter 5 for you. My hand was throbbing when I typed this because of my SOB neighbor in computer's class bugging me. It didn't end well. For me at least. Anyway, I'll probably be typing at eight every Thursday to fill the void. Because after tonight we have a whole three months! –faints- Enough chitchat, let's figure out what's going to happen to Sammy.**

**Xxxxxxxxx**

Dean shouted an obscene word that most parents wouldn't let their children use. He grabbed his dad's arm and dragged him swiftly into the garage.

"Dean, what the HELL?" John bellowed, yanking his arm free as he was pulled into the dank room by his eldest son.

"Dad, we didn't kill it! That or it had a mate!" Dean had locked the door and was trying to secure it better.

"CRAP! Where's Sammy?" John asked, leaping over to a metal toolbox in the garage and beginning to rifle through it.

"I DON'T KNOW!" Dean's frustration erupted and he swiped out, sending a metal flask of holy water flying. "HE WASN'T IN THE ROOM! THE THING GOT INTO MY ROOM DAD! IT CUT THE POWER AND I DON'T HAVE A CLUE WHERE SAM IS!"

His gun ricocheted off the cement floor and John froze for a moment, praying it didn't go off. When nothing happened, he picked it up and shoved it back in Dean's hands. "Focus Dean. Sam killed- or at least seriously injured- the wolf before, he can handle it again."

John seized the gun before it went flying again. "THAT'S JUST IT DAD! HE DIDN'T! I DID! THE DANG THING ALMOST KILLED HIM!"

John's eyes widened, but before he could do or say anything, the door shuddered and came unhinged. Both men jumped up, their guns ready for whatever came through the door. What they didn't expect to see, in the dim glow of the back up light, was the very familiar, lanky form of the Sam.

But it wasn't Sam. Its eyes were gold, its teeth and nails long and haggard. It was growling low in its throat.

But it was Sam. It was Dean's little brother, shaggy hair and all.

But it wasn't. Sam couldn't howl like that. He didn't stalk through the shadows.

But he did. Now he did.

John's figures tightened on the gun as the beast- not Sam, Sam wouldn't do this- circled them. He followed it as it scrutinized through narrowed yellow eyes. Another growl rumbled through its throat.

Dean's fingers, on the other hand, slackened. He couldn't do it. He couldn't point a loaded gun, safety off, at his little brother, no matter what happened.

John glanced over at Dean. At that moment the wolf leaped from the dark and threw itself into John. His gun slid away, under the Impala, as it dove back into the dark.

John stepped closer to Dean. Dean was right. It was definitely Sammy. No regular werewolf could be that smart.

Now he was disarmed and Dean was the only one who could do anything. A slight move might set off the beast that resided inside Sammy's body.

There was an ear piercing howl and it bounded towards them, teeth bared, straight at Dean.

John had no choice. "DEAN SHOOT IT!"

Dean's eyes flickered to John in horror, then back to the animal closing the distance between them.

"SHOOT!"

"I ca-"

"SHOOT IT NOW GOSHDANGIT!"

Dean squeezed his eyes shut. The world slowed as he pulled the trigger of the gun.

It went off with a crack.

There was a scream.

Then silence.

**xxxxxxxxx**

**AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! -runs around screaming-**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hehe. Updated much sooner than expected. Breaking Benjamin is very good for angsty inspiration. :D Oh, and Sam's t-shirt? I have no clue if that band's good or not, I use Google for t-shirt designs, and many other characteristics of my stories. :/ Don't ask me what their first aid kit's in/like, I wouldn't know. xD**

**xOxOxO**

The scream hadn't come from Sam. It came from Dean. His eyes were glued tightly shut, his hands quivering as he dropped the gun.

John's heart ached for him, but at the moment, he couldn't afford to make sure he was alright. Sammy came first.

John edged closer, snagging his gun as he did. After a few long seconds, some very careful circling, John kneeled next to his youngest.

The bullet had gone through his left shoulder; John couldn't tell if it had hit the collarbone or not. Red was blossoming over Sam's 30 Seconds to Mars t-shirt. He brushed Sam's bedraggled bangs out of his eyes, his face pained.

Reminding himself that he needed to be careful, he was just about to withdraw his hand when Sam's chest gave a sudden heave and his youngest's hand curled around his wrist.

John's other hand shot to his gun; his eyes to Sam's. But the eyes staring back at him were Sam's. Pained, confused, shocked.

"Hey Sammy, easy," John soothed as Sam's breathing became hitched; the pain from the wound was probably presenting itself just about now.

"D''n… wh's… D'n!" Sam choked out, his pale pallor taking on a whole new level of white.

Dean was at Sam's side in a second. "Sammy… oh gosh… I'm so sorry…" His whisper was hoarse and he seemed to be fighting back the urge to pass out.

Sam's eyes flickered to Dean; as he realized Dean was there and whole, his eyes fluttered shut.

"Sammy!? SAM!"

John glanced over at Dean. "Calm down son. He blacked out."

Then John kicked into ex-marine mode. "Alright. We to take care of this. Now."

Dean nodded, looking distressed. He jumped up and flew out the garage door, returning seconds later with their well-stocked first aid kit.

John silently took it from him, and popped it open. The first thing he did was take a pair of scissors and hack off Sam's mangled shirt. He tossed the ruined piece of clothing to one side.

Then he proceeded to pour some antiseptic onto a clean facecloth and gently dabbed it onto the bullet entrance. Extracting the silver object was next on his list of things to do.

"Sorry Sammy," he muttered. "This is gonna hurt like hell."

He took a pair of forceps from the kit and carefully began to ease the bullet out of Sam's shoulder. Sam whimpered once, tossing his head to the side, but otherwise remained still.

John finished pulling it out and, wrinkling his nose, dropped it onto the facecloth.

He kept working, barely noticing anything but fixing up his Sammy till Sam was outfitted with four stitches.

"There. Should do." John sat back on his heels, and nearly ended up bowling over Dean. Disgruntled, he just blinked at his eldest son as he jumped back.

"Sorry."

As Dean went over to the first aid kit, cleaning up, a small smile twitched at the edge of John's mouth. He vaguely remembered Dean looking over his shoulder through the whole procedure, muttering things like "Careful" or "If you'd just let me help".

Dean kept his head down, as John shrugged off his jacket and folded it under Sammy's head. He hadn't risked moving him much until he was patched up.

"Dean, go sweep the house. Make sure there's no weapons here. Pack yours and Sam's duffel while you're at it."

Dean jolted up. "What?"

John snorted. Sometimes he could be so thick.

"We're going to Bobby's. We're going to need the cavalry to figure this out. I don't like it, but we're going."

Dean nodded and dashed inside. John Winchester was a proud man. He must be stuck for answers if he was going to Uncle Bobby's for _help_. They stayed there, sure, but they never went there for _help_.

That was the reason it took Dean all of three minutes to pack and run outside to help his dad situate Sam in the Impala.

To Uncle Bobby's it was.

**xOxOxOx**

**Bleh. I started out liking this, but… I don't know. Peace out. -dances out of the room to Disturbed-**

**~Prezzie**


	7. Chapter 7

**Well, how about that. A nice chapter to work with. :D … not really. My motivation sucks right now. Mostly because my mp3 player committed suicide on me, but yeah, you know, that's no blow to inspiration or anything. Enjoy.**

**xOxOxOx**

Dean winced as Sam's head jostled in his lap. There was a slight twitch in Sam's facial expression, but otherwise no sign he'd noticed.

Dean brushed back some of the wayward bangs hanging in Sam's eyes. He sighed.

John glanced in the mirror, trying to get a look at his sons. "How's he doin'?" he asked as he took a left turn.

Dean glanced up. "Mmm… fine, I s'pose. If you can call being shot by your big brother fine." He gave a raw laugh. It subsided quickly.

John flinched at the comment. "Well, we're almost there." He had called Bobby already, so Bobby was getting a room ready.

Dean looked down as there was a slight moan. Sammy was stirring from his pain-induced sleep. His eyes opened blearily. They were Sam's eyes, thank Christo.

"Hey Sammy," Dean said softly.

"De'n." Sam sounded groggy; rightfully so.

"Right here Sam."

"Dean, I think 'm goin' crazy."

Dean frowned, and glanced down at Sam again; his eyes were glassy, it was clear he wasn't fully there.

John glanced in the mirror, his brow furrowed. Sam's words had peaked his interest, and he was wondered what the hell was going on.

Sam continued; it was like he was having a conversation with someone who wasn't there.

"I c'n hear heartbeats. I don't know, it's r'lly insane. I c'n smell bl'd too. Not from like, a cut, like fr'm inside someone. Like, veins." The words slurred together and Sam's head lolled to one side.

"Hey, Sammy, snap out of it." Dean clicked his tongue and snapped his fingers a few times, trying to wake Sam from reverie. It worked.

Sam jerked slightly, then blinked wearily around. "Wh'… De?"

He was utterly confused. Why was the world moving and spinning? Why did his shoulder hurt? Why was he hearing and smelling things no sane person should hear and smell?

"I'm here Sammy," Dean said reassuringly. "You're gonna be fine."

Sam felt comforted by Dean's words and for the moment, let his grip on consciousness loosen. He fell back into a deep sleep.

**XOxOxOx**

**Um. Wow. I don't know. Kinda sucked.**


	8. Chapter 8

Bobby watched worriedly as the black muscle car pulled up the drive into the salvage yard. John had called him ahead of time, and explained in less than a minute what had happened. He jogged over as John wrenched open his door, turning to get the back door.

"Hey John," Bobby muttered as he came up behind him

John glanced at his old friend, nodded, then began to carefully ease Sam out of the car. "You do what I asked?"

Bobby nodded, supporting the unconscious boy's midsection as he slid limply out of the car. Dean came right after him, keeping Sammy's long legs from dragging in the gravel.

They hurriedly- but gently- carried Sam into Bobby's house. Bobby directed them to a small room. Dean recognized it as the room they normally shared, except with some changes. The second bed had been removed, and there were now bars on the windows, and heavy locks on the doors. The final touch made Dean cringe; metal cuffs chained to the bed.

Bobby glanced over at Dean. "I'm sorry boy, but it's gotta be done, if we want to find a cure for this. Well, at least till the moon's no longer full," he said quietly, helping John settle Sam on the bed.

Dean nodded, giving his eyes a quick swipe. "Alright, what should I do?"

Bobby instructed the younger man to roll up towels and fix them around Sam's wrists and ankles so that the cuffs wouldn't scrape at the tender skin. Then he and John left to discuss what they were going to do, leaving Dean in the room with his little brother.

It was quiet for a while, and Dean was on the verge of sleep in the ancient rocking chair Bobby had left by the bed, when he heard Sam's frightened voice.

"Dean? What's going on?"

Dean pulled the chair closer to Sam immediately, wondering how his brother could be so calm waking up in shackles.

"You, ah, you were bit."

Sam's eyes widened, and he gave an experimental tug at the cuffs.

"Yeah.. Sorry about that. We had to." Dean swallowed down the anger bubbling in his throat at the injustice of it all.

"No, it's ok. I get it. Where are we?" Sam glanced around, squinting in the sunlight.

"Bobby's."

Sam eyed the bars on the window with apparent amusement. "Huh. Makes me feel like a criminal."

Dean's mouth quirked up at one side as Sam tried to make light of the situation, for Dean's sake.

"How's your shoulder tiger? Or should I say wolf?" His grin fell momentarily. "Gosh… man, I'm sorry. I had no-"

Sam groaned. "My shoulder's fine, it's the chick flick moments I'm worried about!"

Dean let out a laugh. "Well then!"

Sam gave a sigh and put on a fake look of frustration.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I'm bored."

Dean grinned, before ducking under the bed to bring out Sam's iPod and his speaker jack. "I thought ahead."

"Great!" Sam glanced at the iPod, then Dean, then grinned.

"What now?!"

"Do you even now how to work that?" Sam sniggered.

"Shut up."

**XOxOxOx**

**Blargh. Not very good. I realize now that they probably wouldn't lock him up till night, but OHWELL. It's mah story I call the shots… or maybe I'm just to lazy to change that. Whatevs. On another note, I did have a E/O drabble typed up for yesterday, but it got deleted and the laziness struck again, seeing as I didn't bother to rewrite it.**

**~UpstairsMind**


	9. Chapter 9

Hello. I'm sorry folks, this probably isn't the kind of update you want to seee. XP You're probably screaming at the screen "WHERE'S MY NEW CHAPTER".

WELL DON'T PANIC FOLKS. 8D CAUSE IT'S RIGHT HERE.

A FRESH, SHINY, BRAND NEW, STRAIGHT OUT OF THE PACKAGE, POLISHED UP….

.net/s/6516660/1/

Chapter 1. –runs and hides-

P.S. That chapter is shorter than I thought, but don't worry, it should pick up. :x Copy and paste the link behind fanfiction, and you should get to it.


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